‘Temple Run,’ ‘Minion Rush,’ and the genre of endless runners
Comparing mobile running games and what how their theme changes the experience
The first app I remember in my memory that had a truly viral moment among my peers was Temple Run. It was a pretty rudimentary game, having you swipe to turn while narrowly escaping the clutches of some masked creature. And, as with most endless runners for me, it was addictive as hell.
Fast forward to today, and you’ll find a plethora of these endless runner-style games littering the App Store. Two of them — Temple Run 2, the long-awaited successor to the original, and Despicable Me: Minion Rush, a slickly-produced mobile tie-in to the movie sequel—both occupied much of my childhood screen time, each for different reasons. But what’s the appeal of these games in the first place?
The central concept of these games is the same: you control a running character, and you must slide, dodge, jump and duck under obstacles. Along the way, you can collect tokens which can be used for purchasing power-ups for your next time around. Sure, there are some slight mechanical quirks—you tilt to change lanes in Temple Run, whereas you simply swipe in Minion Rush—but otherwise, the games function quite similarly.
However, it’s in those small differences that actually highlight the appeal of both games, as both games are remarkable in creating the tone and pacing they desire. In Temple Run, the game is essentially a classic send-up to the Indiana Joneses of movies past, taking the quintessential chase scene and expanding it into its own core loop. Speed and agility are of the essence here, with some turns being so quick and balancing moves feeling a little tricky that it almost feels like you’re using sight beyond your foveal vision. Even the music, with its vaguely tribal drumming and fast-paced nature, are key to building the tension in this game.
Contrast this with the humorous hijinks that ensue in Minion Rush, a game where the stakes are incredibly low. You’re not running away from something, as in Temple Run; instead you’re running toward the bananas, trying to gather as many as possible. The colors are bright and cheerful, compared to the former’s grungy ancient ruins. And the music is idiosyncratic and funky, but it never heightens the tension; even at its fastest, Minion Rush can feel like a game of abnegation, achieving mindlessness in a game that rewards achievements. Not an easy task.
These games highlight the important difference between mechanics and aesthetics, and how those differences can shape the entire player experience. Game designers would do well to consider these when playtesting, assessing if they’re achieving the outcomes they desire.
As for me, I’ll keep running (until I trip and fall, at least).
